Reviews for A Snowflake in My Hand

The average rating for A Snowflake in My Hand based on 2 reviews is 5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2016-02-06 00:00:00 R. Derek Hopkins One of my favourites. Warning - this book may make you cry. Samantha works in the oncology section of New York City's Animal Medical Center, a leading veterinary cancer treatment/teaching hospital. It is a positively focussed workplace where they endeavour to increase each animals' life span, and quality of life. We come to know, and love, many of the cats Samantha interacts with on the job, and at home. If you've ever thrilled to the sound of a cat purring in your arms, you'll easily understand the laughter, and the tears, of Samantha's life. I don't enjoy reading about the end of a life anymore than anyone else, but I do like my heart to be deeply moved, and that is what this book did. The joy that cats bring to us in their short time (sometimes very short) here on earth is beyond wonderful, and this book reminds us of that, too. 5 Stars = It made a significant impact on my heart, and/or mind. It moved me. I won't forget it.

Review # 2 was written on 2011-02-26 00:00:00 Charle Kim OMG! I totally forgot I had this book! Somehow, it was lost in the shuffle and I just (joyously) came across it the other day. I sat down and read it almost at once, smiling, laughing, and weeping the whole time. I found it beautiful and touching, heartbreaking and heartwarming. How hard the jobs of these vets and techs must be, to work with such sick animals, but how gratifying. Mooney really hits on some deeply true sentiments concerning life, cats, love, loss, and (especially) the special bond between people and pets. While the writing, overall, isn't astounding, her sentiments are and she has moments of such simple truths, words that strike such a resounding chord, that it is easy to overlook the "literary" faults. In fact, I have to share my favorite quote, which struck me so deeply and made me think of all the cats I have met and loved, in my own home, others, and the sometimes heartbreakingly sad world of the local pound: 'I remember a doctor at the hospital asking me...what was so special about that cat. "She's only a little black cat," he said. As though there were millions, or even one, just like her. One evening my mother called, and while we talked she asked me how my little black cat was doing. I tried to answer but could not. After a long pause she asked, "When did it happen?" "Thanksgiving morning," I replied. "I'm so sorry, dear. But you had a such nice vacation together, and she had a good life with you." But it was not enough. "And you have your others." But it was not the same. No, dear author, it is not the same, is it? No matter how much you love the others, even if you love them more, it is never the same, and it is never enough.